


I've got your number

by Terius



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2020-10-04 14:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20472452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terius/pseuds/Terius
Summary: A couple of glasses of bubbly with the boys and Mingyu's life has gone into meltdown. Not only he has lost his engagement ring, but in the panic that followed, he's lost his phone too. When he spots an abandoned phone in a bin it seems it was meant to be....finders keepers!Except when the phone's owner, elusive businessman Jeon Wonwoo, doesn't agree. He wants his phone back. Can things get any more tangled?





	1. Finders keepers

It’s not an earthquake or a crazed gunman or nuclear meltdown, is it? On the scale of disasters, this is not huge. _Not huge_. One day, I expect I’ll look back at this moment and laugh and think, ‘Ha ha, how silly I was to worry –‘

Stop Mingyu. Don’t even try. I’m not laughing – in fact I feel sick. I’m walking blindly around the hotel ballroom, my heart thudding, looking fruitlessly on the patterned blue carpet, behind gilt chairs, under discarded paper napkins, in places where it couldn’t be.

I’ve lost it. The only thing I wasn’t supposed to lose. My engagement ring.

It’s been in Minghao’s family for three generation. It’s this stunning emerald with two diamonds and Minghao had to get it out of a special bank vault before he proposed. I’ve worn it safely every day for three whole months and now, the very day his parents are coming back from China, I’ve lost it.

Professor Xu and Mrs Xu are at this precise moment, flying back from six months’ in the foreign country. I can picture them now, drinking coffees and reading academic papers. Both of them, they are so sarcastic not to mention are bloody scary too and they’re landing in about an hour and of course they want to see the ring.

No, do not hyperventilate Mingyu. Stay positive. I just need to look at this from different angle. I squeeze my eyes tight, little grey cells in my head, come on, and do your best. Thing is I’m not sure if those cells would function after having three glasses of champagne.

“Mr?” a grey-haired cleaning lady is trying to get around me with a vacuum and I gasp in horror. They’re cleaning the ballroom already? What if they suck it up?

“Excuse me” I grab her shoulder. “Could you just give me five minutes more to search before you could start cleaning?”

“Still looking for your ring?”

“Yes”

“I expect you’ll find it safe at home. It probably been there all the time”

“Maybe” I force myself to nod politely, although I feel like screaming, ‘I’m not that stupid!’

On the other side of the ballroom I spot another cleaner clearing cupcakes crumbs and crumpled paper napkins into a black plastic bag.

“Excuse me!” my voice shrills out as I sprint across to her. “You are looking for my ring. Aren’t you?”

“No sign of it so far” The woman sweeps another load of detritus into the plastic bag without giving it a second glance.

“Careful!” I grab for the napkins and pull it out again, feeling each other carefully for a hard lump, not caring that I’m getting icing buttercream all over my hands,

“Dear, I’m trying to clean up here, look at the mess you’re making”

“I know, I know. But, you don’t understand, if I don’t find this ring, I’m dead”

I want to grab the bin bag and do a forensic check of the contents and put plastic tape around the whole room and declare it as a crime scene. It has to be here, it has to be. Unless someone got it. That’s the only possibility that I’m clinging too. One of my friends is still wearing it and somehow hasn’t noticed. Perhaps it’s fallen into a pocket.

I hurry back to the circular table we were sitting at this afternoon and crawl underneath, patting the carpet yet again. How could I have let this happen?

There were six of us at the table, all merrily swirling champagne and stuffing down cupcakes and it was just before the raffle started that someone said, “Come on Mingyu, let’s just have a go with your ring”

I can’t even remember who that was. Soonyoung maybe? Seokmin was at university with me, and now we work together at the First Fit Physio, with Soonyoung who was also on our physio course. Jihoon and Jun were at the tea too, but I’m not sure if he tried on the ring, or did he?

I can’t believe how rubbish am I at this. The truth is, everyone seemed to be trying on the ring. I admit it, I was basking in the admiration, still can’t believe something so beautiful and grand belongs to me. The fact is, I still can’t believe any of it. I’m engaged! Me, Kim Mingyu is engaged to a fashionable, handsome university lecturer who’s written a book and even been on TV. Only six months ago, my love life was a disaster zone. I’d no significant action in one year and was deciding I should give that match.com guy with a bad breath a second chance….and now my wedding’s only ten days away.

I remember that Jun wore that ring for a long time. He really didn’t want to take it off. Then, Soonyoung tugging at it, saying, ‘My turn, my turn!’

I mean, it’s not like I was irresponsible. I was carefully watching the ring passed around the table. But then, my attention was split because they started on the lucky draws. A week in Italian villa and a top-salon hair voucher. The ballroom was buzzing with people pulling out tickets and number being called out.

And this is the moment where I went wrong. If I could go back in time, I would march at myself and say, “Mingyu, priorities” Anyway, my numbers called out and suffice it within two minutes I was up at the stage, receiving the Wimbledon tickets. I know now I should never have left the table. I should never have left the ring, even for a second. It was surreal, one minute everyone was sitting jolly at champagne. The next minute, a siren was blaring through the air and everyone on their feet, heading for exits and it resulted on just a fake-alarm that broken.

Even then, it’s not as if I was worried. I didn’t think the ring would go missing because I assumed one of my friends had it safe and get it back once I meet them. I meet up with everyone outside and said, “Have you got my ring?”

All of them look blank.

“Who’s got it?” I demanded.

“Dunno” Jun shrugged. “Didn’t Jihoon have it?”

I looked at Jihoon and he told me that he didn’t have it, he thought Soonyoung had it. And Soonyoung thought Seokmin had it. And that how you find yourself under a table an hour ago, gropping around the hotel’s carpet and praying for a miracle. Suddenly my phone is flashing and grabs it with trembling hands. Three messages have come through, and I scroll them in hope.

Found it yet?- Jihoon

Sorry babe, haven’t seen it. Don’t worry. I won’t breath a word to Minghao. - SY

Hi Gyu! God, how awful to lose your ring. Actually i thought I saw it… (loading incoming text)

I stare at my phone, perplexed. Seokmin thought he saw it? Where?

I crawl out from under the table and wave my phone around, but the rest of the text resolutely refuses to come through. The signal here is rubbish. How can this call itself a five-star hotel? I’ll have to go outside.

“Hi” I approached the grey-haired cleaner, raising my arm and voice. “I’m going out to check a text, but if you do find the ring, just call me, I’ve given you my number”

“Right you are, dear” says the cleaner patiently.

I hurry through the lobby, dodging around the groups of conference delegates, slowing slightly as I reached the main door. The air outside is balmy, with just a hint of summer even though it’s only mid-April. There are wide shallow steps in front of the hotel and I walk up and down them, swishing my phone back and forth, trying to get signal but with no success. I waved my phone more wildly, as I head down to the actual main road and my phone in my outstretched fingertips.

Come on, there must be signal somewhere….you can do it….

“Aaaarghhhh!” I hear my own yell of shock before I can even process what’d happened. There’s a twisting pain in my shoulder and my fingers feel scratched. A figure on a bike is pedalling swiftly towards the end of the road. I only have time to register an old grey hoodie before the bike turns the corner.

My hand’s empty. What the hell –

It’s gone. That guy stole my phone. My phone is my life. I can’t exist without it. It’s a vital organ.

“Mr, are you alright?” The doorman is hurrying down the steps “Are you hurt?”

“I….I’ve been robbed” I somehow managed to stutter. “He stole my phone”

I’m starting to shake all over. What do I do without my phone? Every instinct in me wants to text someone, ‘OMG, I’ve lost my phone!’ but how can I do that without my phone?

“Shall I call the police?” The doorman peering anxiously at me.

I’m too distracted to reply. I’m consuming with a sudden teribble realization. The ring. I’ve handed out my mobile phone to everyone – the cleaners and the hotel’s staff. What if someone finds it? What if someone’s got it and they’re trying to call me right this minute?

Oh god, I need to give the concierge my homes number. No, bad idea. If they leave a message, Minghao might hear it. Okay so, I’ll give them my work number, except no one will be at the physio clinic and I can’t go and sit there for hours. I run back to the concierge desk and it was flooded with the conference delegates group.

I can’t sit down and relax, I’m far too hyper. To calm my nerves, I start walking around and around the same route. Past the massive potted tree, past the table with newspaper, past a big shiny litter bin and glancing at the concierge desk, waiting for it to be free.

The lobby is still bustling with executive types from the conference. A squat Japanese man in a blue suit is standing near me with some European-looking businessman. Potted tree, newspaper table, litter bin, potted tree. Now I’ve calmed down a bit, I started to churn in thoughts. Does that hoodie guy realize he has wrecked my life? It’s the worst thing you can steal from a person, and it wasn’t even a great phone.

Tree, newspaper, bin. Tree, newspaper, bin.

Wait.

What’s that?

I stop dead in my tracks and stare into the bin, wondering if I was hallucinating. It’s a phone.

Right there in the litter bin. A mobile phone.

I blink a few times and look again – but it still there, half hidden amid a couple of discarded papers and a coffee cup. What’s a phone doing in a bin? I look around to see if anyone’s watching me – then I reached in and pull the phone out. It has a couple of drops of coffee on it, but otherwise it seems perfect, seems new.

Cautiously I turn and survey the lobby. Nobody’s paying me the slightest attention. No one’s rushing up and exclaiming, ‘That’s my phone!’ And I’ve been walking around this area for the last ten minutes. There’s a sticker on the back of the phone, with White Globe Consulting Group printed in tiny letters and a number. I press the on switch and the screen glows.

A tiny voice in my head telling me that I should hand it in – take it up to the front desk. Just march up to the desk right now, like any civic-minded person. But, my feet won’t move an inch. My hand tightens protectively around the phone. Thing is, I need a phone. I bet this company, whoever they are, have millions of phone. It’s not like I found it on the floor or in the cloakroom. It was in the bin, things in bin are rubbish. That’s the rule.

I peer into the bin again and glimpse a card tag like the ones pinned on the entire delegate’s suit. I pull out the conference pass out and a photo of pretty girl stares back at me, under which printed – Nayoung Im, White Globe Consulting Group. I’m building up a good theory now where this is Nayoung Im’s phone and she threw it away, for some reason.

The phone suddenly buzzed, the ringtone begins at the top of volume – and it’s Beyonce’s single ladies. I quickly press ignore but a moment later it starts up again, loud. A couple of businesswomen turned to stare and I feel flustered that I press talk instead of ignore. The businesswomen were still staring, so I put the phone to my ear and turn away.

“The person you have called is not available” I say, trying to be robotic. “Please leave a message” That’ll get rid of whoever it is.

“Where are you? Call me” A deep, well-educated male voice starts speaking. It worked! He thinks I’m a machine. He rings off and I stare at the phone, in disbelief that anyone would leave any message. Before the phone can ring again, I hurry to the concierge’s desk which has miraculously cleared.

“Hi” I say breathlessly. “Me again. Has anyone found my ring?”

“We would have let you know if we had found it. We do have your phone number –“

“No, you don’t!” I cut him off. “That’s the thing. The number I gave you is now…out of use.” The last thing I want is him calling the hoodie guy and mentioning a priceless emerald ring. “Please don’t call that number. Can you use this number instead?”

I carefully copy the phone’s number from it’s back cover, “Actually, just want to be sure…can I test it?” I reached the hotel’s phone and dialled the number I jotted down. A moment later Beyonce’s song starts blasting out. At last, I can relax a little.

“Was there anything else?” The worker looks pissed off and there’s a queue behind me. I thank him and head to the nearby sofa. Now, I have a phone and a plan. I call the staffs and friends to dictate my new number to them. I flop back on the sofa in exhaustion and closed my eyes. When the Beyonce’s starts again, I startled. Maybe this is it! Someone has found my ring! I don’t even check the screen before pressing talk and answering excitedly, “Hello?”

“Nayoung? A man’s voice hits my ear. It’s a guy with a deeper voice than before and he sounds a bit tempered. He’s also breathing quite heavily, which means he’s a pervert or doing some exercise. “Are you in the lobby? Are the Japanese contingent still there?”

In an automatic reflex, I look around. There’s a whole bunch of Japanese people by the doors.

“Yes, they are” I say. “But, I’m not Nayoung. This isn’t Nayoung’s phone anymore. Sorry. Maybe you could spread the word that her number’s changed?”

I need to get Nayoung’s mates off my case. I can’t have them ringing every five seconds.

“Excuse me? Who is this?” The man demands. “Why are you answering this phone? Where’s Nayoung?”

“I possess this phone” I say, more confidently than I feel.

“”You possess it? What the hell are you – oh god” He swears a bit more and I can hear distant footsteps, it sounds like he’s running downstairs. “Just tell me, are they leaving?”

“The Japanese?” I squint at the group. “Maybe, can’t really tell”

“Is a tall guy with them? Good-looking? Shiny hair?”

“You mean the man in blue suit? Yes, he’s right in front of me and he looks piss”

The Japanese guy has a constant scream of angry Japanese coming out from his mouth as all his friends nod nervously.

“No!” The man’s exclamation took me by surprise. “He can’t leave”

“Well he is, sorry”

“You have to stop him. Go up to him and stop him from leaving the hotel, do whatever it takes”

“What? Look, I’m sorry but I’ve never even meet you –“

“Neither me” He rejoins. “Who are you anyway? Are you Nayoung’s friend? Can you tell me exactly why she decided to quit her job halfway through the biggest conference of the year? Does she think I suddenly don’t need a PA anymore?”

Aha. So, Nayoung’s his PA. This makes sense and she walks out on him. Well, I’m not surprised, he’s so bossy.

“Anyway, doesn’t matter” He interrupts himself. “Point is, I’m on the stairs, floor nine, the lift jammed. I’ll be downstairs in less than three minute and you have to keep Nakamoto Yuta there till I arrive. Whoever the hell you are”

“Or what?” I scoffed.

“Or else a year of careful negotiation goes down because of misunderstanding, the biggest deal of the year falls apart and a team of twenty people lose their jobs”

Oh, bloody hell.

“Alright!” I say furiously. “I’ll do my best. What his name again?”

“Nakamoto Yuta”

“Wait!” I raised my voice, running across the lobby. “Mr Yuta? Could you wait a minute?”

Mr Yuta turns, questioningly, and a couple of guys flanking him protectively. I have no idea what to say next. I don’t speak Japanese apart from sushi. But, I can’t go up to him and say ‘Sushi!’ out of blue.

“I’m a huge fan” I improvise. “Of your work. Could I have your autograph?”

He looks puzzled and one of his colleagues whispers a translation into his ear. Immediately his brows cleared and he bows to me. Cautiously I bow back

“Is he still there?” The stranger’s voice suddenly emanates from the phone.

“Yes, where are you?” I shoot a bright smile to Mr Yuta.

“Fifth floor. Keep him there whatever it takes”

Mr Yuta hands me a piece of paper with his autograph on it, I assumed and makes to walk off.

“Wait! Could I show you something?” I cry desperately.

“Mr Yuta is a very busy man. Kindly contact our office” One of his colleagues said.

They are heading away again. What do I do now? I can’t ask for another autograph. I can’t rugby-tackle him. I need to attract his attention. If I don’t do something, twenty people might lose their jobs.

“Where are you?” I muttered into the phone.

“Third floor don’t lose him” comes the man’s voice after a moment.

I take a deep breath. Come on, it doesn’t matter what I do, I can run away and they’ll never see me again.

“Mr Yuta…” I called him. The man turns around followed by his other colleagues.

Now or never.

“Mr Yuta” I begin, to the tune of ‘Single Ladies’. “Mr Yuta” I repeat the same words just like Beyonce’s song. Some of the guest have stop and watch. Oh god, how did I get myself into this? After a few moments, the guest starts to sing along and clapping. Some delegates nearby have joined in and Mr Yuta just stands there, looking delighted. Thank god, this song is ridiculously catchy. I can hear one of them saying, “Is this a flash mob thing?”

“Mr Yuta, Mr Yuta, Mr Yuta….where are you?” I mutter into the phone, still beaming brightly at the Japanese group.

“Watching”

“What?” my head jerks up and my eyes sweep the lobby.

Suddenly my gaze fixes on a man standing alone about hundred metres away. He’s wearing a dark suit and has thick black-haired that styled up and is holding a phone to his ears. Even from this distance I can see that he’s laughing.

“How long have you been there?” I demanded furiously.

“Just arrived, didn’t want to interrupt. Great job by the way”

“Thanks” I say sarcastically “He’s all yours” I bow to Mr Yuta and turn away, walked swiftly towards the exit, ignoring the disappointment cries.

“Wait!” the man’s voice follow me through the phone, “That phone, it’s my PA’s”

“Well, she shouldn’t threw it away then” I said, pushing the glass door open. “Finders keepers"


	2. Brownies Honour

There are twelve stops from my house to Minghao’s parents’ house and as soon as I reached the destination I checked the phone. It’s flashing with new messages – about ten texts and twenty emails and none of them are about the ring. All the text messages and emails are for Nayoung. As I scroll down them, I noticed that ‘Jeon Wonwoo’ features in the subject heading of quite a few emails. I check on the last number that called this phone was ‘Wonwoo’. So that’s him. Nayoung’s boss. Dark-haired guy.

Just out of curiousity, I click on one of the emails. It’s from [kyulkyung@assetmanagement.com](mailto:kyulkyung@assetmanagement.com) and the subject is ’Re: dinner?’

_Thanks Nayoung. I’d appreciate you not mentioning any of this to Wonwoo. I feel embarrassed now!_

Ooh. Before I can stop myself, I’ve scrolled down to read the previous email, which was sent yesterday.

_Actually Kyulkyung, you should know something. Wonwoo’s engaged. Best, Nayoung._

He’s engaged. Interesting. As I can read the words over again, I feel strange little reaction inside – curious?

Okay, now I have to know the whole story. Why is Kyulkyung embarrassed? I scroll down still further and find Kyulkyung’s email who met Wonwoo at a business function, got hots for him and invited him for dinner two weeks ago but he hasn’t returned her calls.

Poor woman. Why didn’t he reply? How hard it is to send a quick email saying ‘No thanks’? Anyway whatever, I suddenly realized, I’ve been snooping in some else’s emails when I have a lot other things to do. Priorities Mingyu. I need to buy some wine for Minghao’s parents and if I don’t track down the ring in twenty minutes…gloves are needed.

Disaster. It turns out no gloves is available in any of the shops. The only ones I could find were the old Christmas stock. I can’t believe I planning to greet my future in-laws in red woolly reindeer gloves, with ribbon.

As I start the long climb up the hill to their house, I started to feel sick. It’s just not the ring, it’s the whole scary perspective in-laws thing. I turn the corner and all the windows of that one house are alight – they are home.

My legs are shaking as I ring the bell. Any minute I’ll collapse. Stop, Mingyu. It’s fine. No one will suspect anything. My story is, I burned my hand, that’s my story.

“Hi Mingyu!”

“Renjun! Hi”

I’m so relieve it’s Renjun at the door. He’s the baby of the family – only seventeen and still at school. I follow the latter into the kitchen, where Minghao is sitting on a kitchen chair, gesturing at a page of notes. Whatever he does, he somehow manages to look elegant. He’s an academic and he skis very well. That’s how we met. He’d sprained his wrist skiing and he came in for physio after his doctors recommend us. We dated after a few check-up and he asked me out on a date before he proposed me after a month. A month!

Minghao looks up and his face brightens, “Babe!”

“Hi” I force a smile. “Are your parents here? I can’t wait to see them” I tried to sound as keen as I can although my legs want to run away.

“Didn’t you get my text?” Minghao seems puzzled.

“What text?”

Oh, I suddenly realized. “I lost my phone. I’ll give you my new number later”

“You lost your phone?” Minghao stares at me. “What happened?”

“Nothing! Just….lost it and had to get a new one” I say brightly. “So, what did your text say?” I quickly add, don’t want to get into discussion as to why I cling desperately to a random phone found in a bin.

“My parents’ flight delayed. They won’t be here till tomorrow”

Oh my god. I’m safe!

“God, how awful. I was looking forward to see them” I think I sound pretty convincing. Minghao has already picked his notes back. I cooked some dinner for the two brothers and clean the house for a bit. He hasn’t commented on my gloves neither did Renjun. No one’s asked me about the ring. I’ll quit here then.

“So, I’ll be off home” I say casually and drop a kiss on Minghao’s head before bidding goodbye to Renjun.

Now I’m sitting on the bus, staring out the dark night. I’ve lost the ring and my mobile is gone. The phone is my pocket emits the Beyonce’s again and I haul it without any great hope. Sure enough it’s not my friend or the concierge calling to say, ‘Found it!’. It’s him. Jeon Wonwoo.

“You ran off” He says. “I need that phone back. Where are you?”

Charming. Not ‘Thank you for helping me out with the Japanese deal’.

“You are welcome” I say. “Anytime”

“Oh” He sounds momentarily discomfited. “Right, thanks. I owe you one. Now, how are you going to get that phone back to me. You could drop it at my office”

I stay silent. I’m not going to give this phone back to him. I need it.

“Hello?”

I clutch the phone tightly, “The thing is, I need to borrow this phone, just for a bit”

“Oh, god” I can hear him exhale. “Look, I’m afraid it’s not available for borrowing. It’s company property and I need it back”

“I just need it for few days. I’ve given the number out to everyone, and it’s a real emergency….”

“You did what?!”He sounds baffled. “Why would you do that?”

“I lost my engagement ring” I could hardly bear to say out loud. “It’s really old and valuable. Then my phone is stolen and there it was in the litter bin” I emphasize. “Your PA just chucked it away so anyone can claim it”

“Bullshit. Who told you that?” He retorts. “Listen Mr, what’s your name?”

“It’s Mingyu. Kim Mingyu.”

“Well enough kidding around Mingyu. I’m sorry about your ring, I hope it turns up. But, this phone isn’t some fun accessory you and keep as your own. This is a company phone with business messages coming in all the time. Emails. Important stuff. I need those messages”

“I’ll forward them” I said hastily. “I’ll forward all of them. How’s about that?”

He mutters something under his breath, “OK, I’ll buy you a new phone. Give me you address, I’ll drive over –“

“I need this number” I say stubbornly.

“For god’s –“

“My plan can work!” My words tumbled in rush. “Everything that comes in, I’ll send it straight away. You won’t know the difference. Plus, you owe me one for stopping Mr Yuta. You won’t miss anything. Look, I’ll show you, just give me two seconds….”

I ring off, scroll down all the messages and forward them to Wonwoo’s number. Text from Mark forwarded, text from Jackson forwarded and the emails can all go to [jeonwonwoo@whiteglobeconsulting.com](mailto:jeonwonwoo@whiteglobeconsulting.com).

Email from HQ department, forwarded, email from Hwang Minhyun forwarded, email from ’dad’ –

I hesitate for a moment. I need to be careful here. Is this Nayoung’s dad or Wonwoo’s dad? The email address is [sungsoo@hotmail.com](mailto:sungsoo@hotmail.com) which doesn’t really help. Telling myself it’s okay I scroll down to have a quick read,

_Dear Wonwoo,_

_It’s been a long time. I think of you often, wondering what you’re up to and would love to chat some time. Did you get any messages? Don’t worry I know you are a busy one. You know you can drop by._

_Yours ever,_

_Dad_

As I get to the end, I feel a bit shocked. I know this guy is a stranger and this is none of my business. But honestly, how hard it is to reply his own father messages and spare half an hour to chat? Poor old man having to email his own son’s PA.

A moment later, Beyonce’s start to sing. It’s Wonwoo again. “When exactly did Mr Jackson text Nayoung?” He says abruptly.

“Er…about four hours ago” I peer at the phone. “So…we are on? We have a deal?”

For a while he stays silent on the line and I have an image of him glowering at his phone.

“All the staffs, cleaners and friends have this number. It’s my only hope, just for a couple of days and I promise I’ll send every single messages. Brownies’s honour” I say after he keeps on the silence.

“Brownie’s what?” He sounds mystified.

“Honour! Brownies honour like the scouts? You hold up one hand and you make a sign and you swear on an oath. Hang on, I’ll show you” I disconnect the line. There’s a grimy reflection opposite me on the bus’s window. I pose in front of it, holding the phone in one hand and make the brownies honour on the other and wearing my best-sane smile. I take a picture and sent to Wonwoo. Five seconds later a text messages pings back.

I could send this to police and have you arrested.

I feel relieve. Could. That means he’s not going to. I text back –

_I really, really appreciate it. Thx :)_

But there’s no reply

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning I wake suddenly to see the phone flashing with message from Pledis Hotel and I almost cry. They’ve found it! My fingers fumbling and I unlock the phone.

_Dear guest, summer breaks half price. Please visit pledishotel.kr for details. Kind regards from the Pledis entertainment._

I lean back on the bed in disappointment, eight hours has passed since I lost the ring. What if –

I can’t even finish my thoughts. There’s nothing from Minghao even though I sent him a couple of texts last night asking about his parents. At last I turn to Wonwoo’s messages. There’s everything and everyone in here. His doctors, colleagues, charity requests and invitations. 

Wonwoo’s messages are randomly mixed with mine which feels wired. All side by side. I’ve never shared an inbox with anyone in my life. I didn’t expect it to be so….intimate. It’s as if we’re suddenly sharing an underwear drawer or something. Anyway, not big deal.

I slowly forwarding Wonwoo’s messages I’m not going to spy on him obviously but I have to click the messaged in order to forward them and by mistake I catch a glimpse of the text.

Clearly, he must be really bad at answering emails and texts, there are so many requests to Nayoung asking about if Wonwoo has read their messages. And oh my god, his replies are driving me nuts! Does everything has to be so short and unfriendly? It’s like he’s determined to use fewest possible words.

_Yes, fine. Wonwoo_

_Done. Wonwoo_

_OK. Wonwoo_

Would it kill to add a smiley or say thank you? Worst of all, his dentist’s receptionist has emailed him about meeting for a check-up four times. Nayoung obviously tried to make appointment for him but he emailed her – ‘Cancel it. W’

Does he want his teeth to rot?

One of the email is from Irene and as I click on it, capitals are everywhere.

_Nayoung,_

_Let’s be grown up about this. You’ve heard about Wonwoo and me fighting. No point on hiding it. So since Wonwoo refuses to answer the email I sent, maybe you could print this attachment and PUT ON HIS DESK SO HE READS IT? Thanks._

_Irene_

I stare at the phone, almost wanting to laugh. Irene must be his fiancée. Her email address showed that she works at White Globe Consulting. My fingers seem to move on it’s own, already clicking on the attachment.

_Wonwoo,_

_You still haven’t answer me and how you can live your day so calmly? WE NEED TO TALK SO BADLY._

_Irene_

I find myself giggling. She is obviously really upset. My heads hits with realization there’s no more Nayoung. No one going to print this out and put on Wonwoo’s desk. He won’t know about it and Irene will get more livid. Beyonce’s suddenly blast off and saw ‘Wonwoo’. Is he a psychic and knows I’ve been spying on him?

“Oh, hi there” I said.

“Did I receive any email from Yoon Jeonghan?” He launches in.

“No, I’ve sent all your emails over. Good morning to you”

“I thought you might miss one” He completely ignores me.

“Well I extremely careful and there’s no email from Yoon Jeonghan”

“Hmm, so, have you find your ring?”

“No, but I’m sure it will turn up soon” I ring off after he said a quick ‘bye’ and stand motionless beside the bed. I’ll give myself twelve more hours and then I’ll tell Minghao.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

First Fit Physio is eighteen minutes from my apartment. I arrive at nine o’clock and expecting Soonyoung, Seokmin and Jun sitting behind their work desk. As I enter the building, Seokmin gives a small gasp, “Mingyu! Have you found your ring?”

“No. but, I’m sure it’ll show up soon”

“What did Minghao say?” Jun chirps in.

“I….I haven’t told him yet”

“When are you going to tell him?” The big-eyes guy said once again.

Everyone has this disappoint face and I hate that face. I can’t even answer Jun’s question, oh god, this is really bad.

My phone buzzes and I grab it. Minghao has just sent a text.

_Dinner at 8. The whole family is coming, can’t wait to see you!_

I type a quick reply to Minghao with my fumbling fingers.

_Great! so exciting to meet them :)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg hi everyone. im so sorry for disappearing for a very long time. ive been busy with irl stuffs. but here's an update. hope yall like it. leave some kuos if you like the update. and drop some comments too, I FEED ON COMMENTS. thankyou for reading


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